True Thoughts
by Captainforkz and HGfourever
Summary: When Emory gets chosen as the female tribute for the 53rd annual Hunger Games, she does something bad. She kills someone that she wasn't supposed to. But, isn't that what the Hunger Games are about? Apparently not. She killed her Capitol-loving district partner. Will the Capitol take their anger out on her?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey I'm Captainforkz. My friend HGfourever and I are writing this story together. Tell us if you like it, and check out Captainforkz and then look at HGfourever.**

Chapter 1

I walked to the stage. Hearing my name being called felt like a gunshot to the head. Actually, I would've preferred the gunshot.

I was just chosen to be the female tribute from District 7 in the 53rd annual Hunger Games. The odds were not in my favor.

Amelia Watson called my name less than a minute ago, and I'm surprised I could move my legs to go to the stage. I still hear my own name ringing in my ears.

I finally reached the stage, and waited while Amelia prepared to call the name of the male tribute. I could just pray it wasn't him. If they chose him, I would have no chance of winning whatsoever.

"Trent Hark." Oh my gosh. It was him. It's like the universe was against me today. The Hark's were a family of Capitol-loving people, even though we were from District 7. On New Year's last year, all the shoes in their little shoe shop had the Capitol insignia carved on the bottom. I wonder if they think that if the love the Capitol so much, then the Capitol will invite them to live there. Not going to happen.

"Shake hands," Amelia Watson said. Trent and I shook hands and I tried my hardest to glare at him. He just smiled.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor," Amelia yelled over the silent crowd.

That one sentence pretty much told me that my life was over.

**Yay! I hope this wasn't the exact same thing as the Hunger Games. I hate fanfics that pretty much copy the book word for word.**

**Review, and tell us how well our first story was!**


	2. Chapter 2

**True Thoughts Chapter 2**

**Hey, HGfourever here. I want to shout out to our first reviewer, Nrrrd-Grrrl-Meg!** **Thank you so much! **

**Disclaimer: We do not own the Hunger Game trilogy or any of its characters**

We were rushed off into our Justice Building, and I waited in a small sofa on the corner. Nothing could hide the nervousness I was feeling.

My life was over. Literally. Not figuratively like those other girls would say when their one week boyfriend would dump them. How could this have happened? My name was only in there four times. _Four._ How would I survive these? I wasn't good with anything really. The only thing I could possibly hurt a person with was a sickle. You know, that curvy thing used to cut wheat? I also can kind of use an ax, but not very well. I worked in the fields, only occasionally chopping down an actual tree. District 7 isn't all lumber, you know. We do have other things to do.

The door clicked open, and my drunken father stumbled in with my brother shuffling behind him.

"Well, dearie. Aren't you the hero? Better win these or else. Don't want little Bryce over here to starve do we?" my father said, stumbling over into a chair. Bryce crawled into my lap and I softly whispered to him, so my father wouldn't hear.

"Bryce, you have to stay strong, okay buddy? I'm not going to come home for a little bit, can you understand that?" Bryce nodded. I hugged him closer. "Once someone finds you, go with them. Daddy won't hurt you after that, I promise. Just wait. Then you'll go to a house where lots of people like you are. And you can make friends, and have fun, and everything will work out." I whispered. Bryce was nine, but still had a little trouble understanding things sometimes. I tried to be protective, but it was hard when you're father was never there and you had no way to pay for necessities. My mother died a little after Bryce was born, and my father took to drinking. Not that he loved her, but just needed something to take away from his awful children.

"Father?" I said, tugging on his sleeve enough for him to wake up.

"Mmm?"

"You and Bryce need to leave now. It's time for me to go. Just don't let him starve. The orphanage will pick him up and you can be free."

"Can't promise anything, dearie. Not my fault you kids depend on me," he said. Bryce followed him out to the door, and I was left alone.

Nothing good could possibly come out of this.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Trent waited outside waiting for Amelia to take us to the train. She came out tugged us to the loading station.

"Come along. Don't be late. I need to get to the after party as soon as possible. Finally invited to it," she yelled, and we boarded the train. Trent smirked, proud that he, _Trent Hark_, had been chosen to compete in the Hunger Games. This guy was already making me sick to my stomach.

If I couldn't survive him, how would I do this?

**There's Chapter 2! I hope you guys like it! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Back for chapter 3! We are two people, so we'll be updating a lot!**

Chapter 3

This was not my definition of fun. Amelia was talking nonstop about her party, Trent was looking at me like he knew something I didn't, and all I could think about was Bryce.

Would my dad take care of Bryce? My father, Chuck, went to drinking after my mother died nine years ago. I remember when I was six years old, with Bryce as a newborn, and my father had just started drinking. My mother had just died. And no, I do not blame Bryce for my mother's death. I wouldn't trade Bryce for the world. He was all I had left.

My father, and older sister, Sharon, never took care of me. Well, Sharon took care of me for a year, until I was seven, and she was fourteen. I guess she didn't like taking care of children. She didn't even show up to say goodbye to me. She hates me.

When I was about seven, I did something she must've thought was bad. Anyway, I accidentally drove away her boyfriend, killed her rabbit, and spilled her bathing water. But I was a clumsy girl at the age of seven. It's not my fault. The least she could do is say goodbye before I left to die.

**Line Break**

Amelia said that our mentor was supposed to eat with us. But he was late. He didn't show up until dessert. His name was Matthew Lawern, and he won last year. He's only nineteen, and has a crazy look in his eyes. He scares me.

Anyway, when he showed up, he got right down to business. "Listen, I'm not cut out for this mentoring crap. All it does is piss me off. Amelia is going to do the job of mentor." Well, then.

After Matthew's little speech, I went to my room. My room was almost twice as big as my house, which wasn't saying much. My house consisted of a tiny living space, a tiny bathroom, and two tiny bedrooms. Unfortunately for Sharon, we shared a room. She still lives with us, even though she's twenty-two.

I put on my pajamas and got in bed. How was I supposed to do this?

**Did you like? We'll probably be updating two or three times tomorrow afternoon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**True Thoughts Chapter 4**

Trent and I were eating breakfast at the table, when Matthew came in. Trent immediately started asking questions about survival and weapons, but I stayed quiet as usual.

"You're one year younger than me. I'm not the one to be asking, I haven't spent any longer here than you have, I know as much as you! I won by pure luck! So if you want to know something else, ask Amelia. Sirah! I can't be trusted with kid's lives! You can't expect me to get you out of there; you have to do it yourselves!" Matthew yelled. Sirah was our other mentor, an older female who won the seventh Games. She was kinder than Matthew, but had gone crazy after her Games, so it was a little harder to speak to her. Matthew only won because his parents were freaking rich, so they pretty much paid for him to win.

"You can't expect me to get anything out of her! I need to win these, and I can't without you!" Trent said.

"You want to know how to win, then? Have rich parents. Because everyone knows that's how I won. I'm not good at anything. I was a rich spoiled brat, and I still am. Only changed. Because those Games change you. And I don't want to see anybody else go through it. I may be pretty heartless, but I don't want anyone to go in. I know you support the Capitol, and that's fine with me. Just come and tell me if you still do if you come out of there alive," Matthew said, and left with a clatter of his utensil's. Trent sat back down, his face bright red and steam almost coming out of his ears.

"They do it to protect us. They don't want us to have to die to show us that. But they have to. We're the ones who rebelled, and we need to be punished," Trent whispered. Sure. Because being punished definitely means killing innocent children. I totally agree.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I sat on my bed, thinking, when we finally got to the Capitol. At first I didn't notice anything, but the screams began to get louder, and I looked out the window.

Thousands of rich Capitol people, dressed in geometric shapes this year. One person's outfit was so big, the person had to have Peacekeeper tape around their little square. I didn't or smile, just stared at the people with saucer eyes.

I was going to look scared whether I wanted to or not.

I was taken to the Remake Center and met my prep team. They were almost as bad as Amelia. Apparently since Matthew had won last year, they were much more popular than the other years. They poked, prodded, and did whatever they wanted with me, and I was finally shoved into a metal room.

I sat on the table, when my stylist came in. He was obviously trying to follow to Capitol trends, with red and blue overalls on with triangles sticking out from odd places. Just overalls. I could see his chest, which had obviously had the hair medically removed and dyed a yellowish color.

"Why, hello. I'm your stylist, Ush-ot. We have something very special planned for the ceremony, I'm sure you'll love it!" he said. He started looking over my naked body, making me uncomfortable. "Mmm, I suppose you'll do. We can't do anything really special though, and I can make a few adjustments." I wasn't great-looking, but I wasn't bad. I had whitish-blond hair to my shoulders, and a plain complexion. I wasn't the best looking tribute, but I wasn't the worst. I was sat on the table while Ush-ot got measurements. He left and eventually came back an hour later.

"Well, it's time! I'll show you your costume…" he led me down a hallway, and showed me my dress.

It was wood. Like literal wood. The stuff we make furniture out of. How was I going to fit into that?

**Sorry, I needed to stop it there. I have a lot of homework and a volleyball game tomorrow! Sorry, update tomorrow, though! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5! **

Chapter 5

If I said, "I didn't like my costume," I would be lying. I _hated _my costume. Just because we're from District 7, it doesn't mean we have to dress up in really stupid costumes.

I got in the chariot next to Trent. He was dressed just like me, except it looked worse on him, with the dark brown of the wood clashing with his light hair and ultra pale skin. I wasn't nearly as pale as him.

"Emory," he said. I looked over. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I support the Capitol, but I didn't mean to rub my political beliefs in your face. You might disagree with me, and my parents always taught me that it was rude." Whatever. Is that why his parents openly supported the Capitol, and glared at you if you disagreed? To be rude?

"Its fine," I said, even though it wasn't. "Let's just forget about it and focus on our surroundings." He nodded.

Our chariot started moving. The dark read colored horses started going at a slow trot. We emerged into the stadium following District 7. I was kind of scared of the chariot. I mean, the horses were well trained, but I could hear other chariots behind us and I was afraid they were going to run us over.

For about fifteen minutes, all I did was smile and wave at the audience. They didn't notice me, though. They were all looking at the Careers. I'd _really _have to keep an eye on them.

The chariots slowed to a stop. President Snow pretended to beam at us. "Another year of the Hunger Games," he bellowed. "I'm sure this year's tributes will be _proud _to represent their country and their Districts." At this point, the crowd was cheering, and all of us tributes were pretending to beam back. Except Trent. I think his smile at President Snow was real.

The anthem played, and the event was over. We headed for the building were we would be staying. We headed for the seventh floor. I didn't stick around to chat, though. I went to my room.

And stayed there the whole night, thinking about Bryce, the Hunger Games, Trent, the President, my father, and everything. And I knew I was going to die.


End file.
